


The Accursed Share

by incogneato



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: daredevilkink, Gen, Lovecraftian, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incogneato/pseuds/incogneato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Foggy is a Lovecraftian monster. He is the creature that walks between stars, who eats planets whole, and if you dared look upon his true form, you would tear your own eyes out just to escape but the image is burned into your brain, causing you to go insane."</p><p>He reaches out for Foggy because Foggy is the closest thing to a sacrament outside of church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Accursed Share

Foggy says that the law is there to bring arbitrary order to an otherwise yawning abyss of pointless, frenetic undulations in the dark of space that humans call existence.

"Not _laws_ , specifically. Some laws are really practical and make perfect sense. Nobody wants to spend years arguing over whether a car is parallel parked correctly. Laws save a lot of time. But the concept of Law itself, that it can be called _the_ law--it's there to keep human brains contained within safe confines, so they don't go oozing and spilling out into the great beyond with nothing to hang onto. To trust that anything like an objective law can exist at all, even if we might not have perfected our interpretation of it yet, to think of it as a goal we can strive towards--that keeps humans sane."

"Oh wow, you're such an idealist," Matt says sarcastically, wide grin on his face to take the sting out of his quip. He's only known Foggy for a few months, but he loves it when he gets drunk and goes on dreamy philosophical rants, saying "humans" like he isn't one. 

Years later, when they've opened their own law firm and taken on endless clients pro bono, he wants to ask if Foggy remembers what he said about The Law, once. 

Sometimes, for no reason that Matt can sense at all, clients' heart rates will pick up when they meet Foggy for the first time. It's not the usual uptick of sexual interest. It's something Matt can't quite put his finger on, and it goes away once they get down to business and start talking. 

Sometimes, for no reason that Matt can figure out at all, he gets a creeping sensation on the back of his neck when he's near Foggy, like all the fine hairs are instinctively standing up to try to get away. 

Foggy has this way of getting information out of people, sometimes, when the moon is right or the stars align or something. Maybe it's in the way he looks on certain days. Matt can never predict when it'll be one of the good days--as far as he can tell Foggy never does anything different, so maybe it's something visual, subtle. On certain days, Foggy has this way of causing people to babble, just a stream of consciousness pouring out of them like they can't help themselves. They get a lot of confessions this way.

Foggy is also very, very good in court.

Matt tells him this, like he doesn't know, on a night when they're celebrating a decision that went their way. Greasy takeout and cold beers sweating in the New York heat of Foggy's fire-escape-cum-balcony. Matt's hand is on the base of Foggy's neck, his fingers brushing through hair--the narrow balcony is a little rickety and it's his excuse to touch, because he wouldn't want to fall or not know exactly where Foggy is at all times. 

Foggy smiles and says thank you, and then he hums thoughtfully and says, "I think it's because I understand how it all works now."

"What, charming the jury?"

"Just...The Law. You know, human laws."

He's doing that thing again that he used to do in college, and it makes Matt want very badly to kiss him, so he does.

Once, just once, after everything, after the whole truth about the man in the red mask had come out, just once does Matt wake up to a strange presence in his bed.

He's in a muffled haze of pain from the painkillers blocking out the fresh breaks and sprains that he will eventually have to face, half asleep and a quarter passed out, woozy and dizzy and wishing for absolution. He reaches out for Foggy because Foggy is the closest thing to a sacrament outside of church.

For just a second, less than that, or maybe for an eternity, longer than an infinite eternity, he finds something incomprehensible instead of his best friend. Too many eyes and too many teeth and too many tentacles where tongues should be. He's falling, there is no gravity and the earth has no centre, and then he's back in his bed again, blind and uncomfortably sore but being lovingly held by Foggy, who shushes him in a voice that he doesn't recognize and tells him to go back to sleep. 

Eventually, the papers have to come up with a name for him:

Daredevil.

To differentiate the man in the mask from The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, which is what witnesses call the thing that follows him around.


End file.
